Sometimes at night I walk the halls of Stephens
Tonight under fleeting moon
There to meet old friends who join me in the moment
Some twenty plus years ago
In a spectral gaze I see all at 23
and can't quite find my way
up and down walls of Stephens
A kiss unmet, an invitation lilted, a hand untaken
In the day I am become bald and fat, but in that place
I see the fields round the grounds of Stephens
and a muscled youth with thick brown hair
There also the starlit eyes of those fair
Unsure how to engage the willowy memory
I wander on, angst as far lost as those lips
Where are those so sweet,
Jennifers, GiGi, E.E., and others
You Clarion dancers also,
Ringing in my mind, flying like lark and swallow
Like Der Fliegender Hollander, I must return
On the seas of vast cobalt waxing purple
With stars of so many souls once familiar
to light the passage ways of Fielding Smith,
Playhouse and naked lake
Gone on the wind of the jet stream
That must carry this one back from Columbia
To the bewildering hot glow of L.A.
Fare Thee Well Till Another Long Night
